


Born to win

by Dhely



Category: Marvel Ultimates, X-Men (Ultimateverse)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-14
Updated: 2016-03-14
Packaged: 2018-05-26 17:10:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6248470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dhely/pseuds/Dhely
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's the translation of my short fic about Pietro's training in Ultimate!verse<br/>My English is not so good but I hope it is understandable.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Born to win

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [Born to win (ITA)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6248422) by [Dhely](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dhely/pseuds/Dhely). 



_Mutants._

He kneeled down into the dust, his muscles tightened hard.

_We are born to win._

He twisted his own chest, his triceps sprung.

_What kind of war?_

The ground under his foot, the sweat on his forehead - he felt a pain on his hip, but he had no time to check what kind of wound it was.

_Every kind of war. A defense war, or a conquer war._

_An annihilation one, too._

He hit out at the other mutant, then he twisted again and jumped. His body was burning.

_Every damned kind of war my father want to fight._

A single breath. Some splits seconds. He took a breath, and decontracted his back muscles to better focus on his target.

_For me there are no war, no target that were not originated from my father’s will._

_I was born without any freedom of choice – without the idea of it, too._

_I am.. we are better. Stronger. We are superior – physically and mentally. We are mutants, the next step of the evolution. We are the winners, the new masters of the earth. For that my father – who was the strongest of all the mutants – chooses for me what my goals have to be._

He jumped, again. He run in the fastest way he can whit that stupid powers-suppressant he wore on his wrist.

One hand on his chest: it stopped him, it grabbed him, it knock him into the ground. The slam made him to moan, and shiny, little fireflies dancing in his sight.

But he didn’t stop.

Pietro never stopped.

_Mutants never stop._

He moved his centre of gravity to his ankles, he dodged an hit then he  twisted his legs with the other’s.

It was only a matter of levers and balance. It wasn’t about strength, it was about velocity, awareness, control and detachment.

His opponent fell down, as usual.

Pietro heard the long whistle from their instructor and he got up. He tried to shake off the dust from his body while he hearing the beating roar of his own blood running into his veins covering almost every others noise.

He could breath, now.

The trainer nodded to him while was filling in the format.

Pietro moved from the training ground.

He stepped slowly, losing his legs’ muscles. On his ankle a long, superficial wound was burning. He tried to smile, but he wasn’t sure to do it. Logan was looking at him from not far – he was waiting for him whit his usual stern expression.

“During some movements, there was some approximations.”

Pietro nodded.

He told nothing to Logan, what he could say to him?

 _We are mutants, we are the new masters of the world_.

Logan was the result of an experiment: how much the genetic engineering could increase the mutants powers. According to his father, humans failed it, too: it is enough a strong, well focused and jaded training, lasting a sufficient period to make them some perfect war machines. But Logan was the best in what he does – and now he was responsible of his military training.

Pietro stopped in front of Logan, stiff and austere.

He waited for an order, or a comment.

_Us mutant are aimed to rule the world, we are aimed to fight  and to win._

“Pietro, it wasn’t enough.”

_Sometimes it seems that I am born only to die._


End file.
